


it's love, isn't it?

by ashortrefrain



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Historical Fantasy, Howl's Moving Castle AU, Magic, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, there are other characters but some are spoilers so just know they're there eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26402185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashortrefrain/pseuds/ashortrefrain
Summary: “I’ll see you again,” It sounded so full of promise, her heart lurched, “Until then,”He was lost then, in the crowd. She wondered if she’d ever see him againi know this fandom is saturated with the Howl's Moving Castle AU's, but this is the only thing keeping me sane rn so have another rendition featuring Marinette as more of a Book!Sophie in her magical powers and some semblance of historical fiction. It starts as an honest retelling of the movie, then a mix of the books, and veers quickly into pining and fluff.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 14
Kudos: 36





	1. Belle Epoque

The Great War was one Marinette took no care in. A war could never be all those pretty words, and she especially thought that as soldiers marched through town. All along the cobblestone streets, men in blue uniforms and buttoned up to the collar were all about; smiling at ladies who could do no better than to swoon right back. It was downright unfathomable.

“Marinette! Are you going to be long, we’re going to the shore to see the other boats come in,” Chloe’s voice never failed to ring at the highest possible pitch. She rounded the corner and leaned against the door frame, judging Marinette, “Are you going to sit here sewing all day?”

“I’m a seamstress, it’s my job,” Marinette did not look up, letting the needle pass back and forth through the fabric, “I have orders to complete, you know.”

Chloe hummed, “Fine, if you see Mama and Papa tell them I send my regards.”

“I will,” Marinette watched as Chloe turned away.

When the war hit, it hit hard. Chloe was formerly the daughter of a noble family, now relegated to the likes of the Dupain-Cheng’s. The Bourgeois child was grateful, but nonetheless aching to return to a lifestyle she was familiar with all her life.

Maybe that’s why they never got along. Marinette sighed, waiting for the door to shut before putting her work down.”Maybe I  _ should  _ see Mama, it’s been too long.”

She ignored the ache in her heart, and finished up her work on the piece at hand.

In the heart of the city, she wondered how she’d traverse through the now maddening crowd. She supposed herself lucky that she did not go with Chloe, it’d be impossible to leave and push her way through the dense sea of bodies.

She made her way to the back of the store, passing a mirror along the way. She spared a glance at herself in it, and sighed again.

Her black hair was pulled into simple pigtails, her dress a dusty pink that has faded and lost its luster over the years. Despite having her own shop where customers raved about her designs, it left her little time to dress herself to the same caliber as her customers.

Her hands were marked with scars and callouses, her face looked so plain, she didn’t think she could find any lipstick in her room even if she tried. She turned away from herself, unable to look any longer. She pushed her way out the back door and began making her way through the backstreets.

Though it was still daytime, the narrow passageways were covered in the shadows of the buildings around it. There was just enough room for two people to walk comfortably, Marinette thought to herself as she hung a right and ran face first into two people. Her nose met thick wool and she tensed immediately.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Strong hands were wrapped around her shoulders as if to catch her, but didn’t let go.

Marinette stared at the brass buttons along the navy coat before her, “Sorry,” she took a step back and pulled out of the man’s grasp.

He stepped forward to match her, his arms crossing over his broad chest, “Are you lost, little lady?”

“We can help you find your way,” the other soldier leaned in and Marinette clenched her fists. She was about to turn and make a run for it when a gentle hand slid around her shoulder.

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you,” a voice that sounded bright as a bell called.

She looked up and she saw stars in his piercing green eyes and curly blonde hair.

They shoved past the guards with no trouble, the two suddenly at attention and no longer barricading the way.

“I’m sorry to trouble you as well, but I’m being followed,” he looked truly sorry as he continued them down the path.

“Are you in danger?” She asked, nudging them to make another right.

“I hope not,” he gave her a grin that was all teeth, “I’ll ensure you’re safety, don’t worry. Where are we headed?”

“The bakery, Dupain-Cheng.” she felt him quicken their pace.

“I know exactly where, trust me.” they were running now, “Do you trust me?”

“Uh,” was all Marinette got out before a bright orange beam illuminated the ground. Instantly her foot was in the air. And then the next one, and the next one, each step elevating them higher and higher.

She scrambled, kicking her legs as his hands slid down to hold her’s, “It’s alright, I’ve got you.

“Take a step, just like you were walking before,” She stepped and feigned walking. In an instant, they were traversing the air on foot, “Just like that, perfect.”

Stories above the hustle of town, they glided along the clouds, as if walking on an invisible walkway in the sky.

“You’re a natural,” she heard him whisper and she smiled back at him. His smile was a beam of light in the blue sky. He was like the sun, this mysterious man with his bright blonde hair and pearly clear skin. She turned back to look straight ahead before he caught her staring.

“That’s my balcony, over there!” she pointed to the black railed rooftop where she used to spend her days in her childhood. She saw the table where she’d sketch her ideas, plants still clinging to the edge and a pink curtain peeking from the window where she’d sneak up.

He gracefully dropped her over the railing, his hand lingering over her’s, “Thank you, you got me out of a tough situation out there.”

“I could say the same for you,” she beamed at him, she couldn’t help it. He stood on the railway and he was so warm under her palm, she never wanted to let go.

“I’ll see you again,” It sounded so full of promise, her heart lurched, “Until then,” his hand slipped out of her grasp and he shot back down into the street. She couldn’t resist the urge to watch him, his cape of black unfurling with the wind to reveal his white button down, a shirt that was gossamer white and seemed to gleam in the sunshine.

He was lost then, in the crowd. She wondered if she’d ever see him again before turning to retreat inside.

“You could’ve been killed!” Alya was on her break, the two sat in the back as her parents manned the front in Alya’s place. She was happy to have given them a hug and kiss each, and equally thankful they were not asking her to pick up a shift.

Marinette regret telling Alya about her encounter already, “He saved me, and got me here a lot faster than if I had tried to muddle through the crowd out there.”   
“You’re telling me! There are  _ so  _ many customers, I can hardly keep up,” Alya sighed, “What if he was the wicked wizard, Chat Noir? He could’ve eaten your heart!”

Marinette swiftly shook her head against that idea, “He only goes after pretty ladies, and besides, this wizard was sweet.”

“Marinette, you’re gorgeous,” Alya scoffed, “any man who doesn’t see that is a fool.”

“That’s why I visit you Alya, you’re an ego boost like no other,” Marinette smiled at her friend and the two laughed.

“Shoot, look at the time, I better go back before your parents are drowned in orders. Are you going to be alright getting back by yourself? You know your bedroom is still untouched.”

“Thanks Alya, but I’ve got a big dress order to finish back at the shop.” Marinette lied as she stood up and shook her dress out.

“Stay safe out there, ok? I’ll be sure to visit soon,” Alya gave Marinette a bear hug and it was almost enough to get Marinette to stay.

She turned on her heel before she made good on Alya’s offer, instead bounding for the street under the setting sun.

Darkness had overtaken the street by the time Marinette stepped into the store. She locked the door behind her and pulled at the ribbons holding her hair. She walked to the vanity and lit a candle when she heard the door open.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the day,” Marinette frowned. A woman in an orange gown and auburn hair stepped through the threshold. She had wide hips and her eyes were so sharp as she examined the store.

“Hm, nothing extraordinary here,” her voice sultry as she finally looked at Marinette.

“I’m going to have to ask you to return tomorrow when we’re open,” Marinette shoved past her, opening the door and gesturing for the woman to leave.

“Strong willed, he must have a type then,” She laughed darkly, “We’ll see how he likes you now,”

And in a breath Marinette was winded, the woman in question but a spectre of orange light as she left the shop.

Marinette opened her eyes and saw she was alone, at last. She quickly ensured the door was locked and though she felt her palms against the doorknob, she saw an old woman’s hands in her place. She lifted them carefully and saw them mimic her movements.

_ No _ , was all Marinette could even muster to think. Her feet moved to the vanity and before the round mirror she saw herself wrinkled and hunched. Silver strands where her once pitch black hair rested on her shoulders.

“No,” her chapped mouth spoke, the old woman before her in mounting disbelief, “No, no, no!”

She turned away, closed her eyes, and swiftly turned back. She was faced with the woman again, that same incredulous look in her deep set eyes. Marinette ran her hands over her face and the flesh was soft and folding in on itself.

“That witch,” she murmured, angry. Orange light, cursing magic in the dead of night, it was undoubtedly the Witch of the Waste that had decided to pay Marinette a visit tonight. She questioned why but above all else she knew she had to break this curse.

She would make for the Waste in the morning.


	2. In The Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette continues on her journey under the Witch of the Waste's curse, venturing into the depths of the Waste.

Marinette found that despite her aching limbs and slow movements, she was making good headway.

The Waste was a land full of lawless witches and wizards, a place where magic ran rampant and no one was guaranteed to return. Marinette never thought to venture here, but at her state she wasn’t sure if her poor old heart would stop before she could break the curse.

That was the other thing that pushed Marinette to the Waste. Why curse her? She did nothing notable her whole life, and if she did wrong someone it was most assuredly not on purpose. She had to right this wrong, one way or another.

She could still see the town looming behind her as she climbed the steep hill.

“I can’t get very far on these old legs,” Marinette muttered to herself, “If only I had thought to bring a cane.”

She turned back to face the hill again when she saw from the corner of her eye a stick hanging out of a bush, as if an offering to Marinette’s exact wishes.

She trekked further, as fast as her legs would allow, and grasped it. Much like a broomstick it was thankfully not splintery in her hands as she tried to free it from the tangled branches of the shrub.

With a good tug it was finally free, but rather than still in her hands, the stick righted itself up until it stood and revealed a scarecrow. A handsomely dressed scarecrow with a turnip head and glasses.

She would have laughed if she wasn’t terrified, “I’m sorry, good wizard, for disturbing you. I must be on now!”

Marinette turned and hoped she didn’t further offend him, the last thing she needed was another curse to pile on. Instead, however, the scarecrow stayed close behind her, silent except for the sound of it magically hopping along the dirt. 

Night had fallen and a thick mist overtook the land when Marinette decided to stop. She caught her breath and the scarecrow stayed still as she clutched her knees.

“It sucks to be old, turniphead,” she turned to the scarecrow, as if he were listening. After all the time they spent traversing the land she doubted the creature was capable of wizardry, he did little else than hop about and occasionally get stuck in things.

It didn’t respond to her retort, instead it hopped further along and lost itself from her view through the mist.

“Fine, you go on ahead, see if I care,” she heaved before hauling herself up, “I need to find a place to rest.”

As if on cue, the scarecrow came hopping back. Hot on its trails was the sound of cantankerous moving gears and engines firing. Metal scraping and wood creaking as through the mist a monster of metal and building material emerged. It was taller than any building Marinette had ever seen, any structure paled in comparison.

“Turniphead, this is Chat Noir’s castle!” She cried over the roaring of the metal beast. Steam and smoke poured from every crack as she watched it’s metal legs crush the earth beneath it.

The scarecrow didn’t heed her words any mind, it hopped along and followed it’s slow moving path. For such a large structure to move, she couldn’t imagine it, it had to be magic, it had to be the magician Chat Noir. She followed the scarecrow as if instinctively, “Turniphead, what are you doing?”

Somehow the scarecrow found an entrance, a little cobblestone foyer with a wrought-iron door. There were even stone steps leading up to it, as if they pulled the frame of a house and embed it into the side of the castle as an accessory.

Marinette managed to climb on and open the door, “Thank you, turniphead. I appreciate all the help,” she called out to it as she saw the door did, in fact, lead somewhere.

She fixed the glasses on him before stepping into the pitch black darkness.

“Hello?” Marinette called, surprised that the door even revealed anything. She was half expecting the door to not even open, “I’m sorry to bother you, I’m just a poor old woman seeking refuge for the night.” She climbed the stairs but all was dark. A small fire was burning over an old dusty pit, and she fixed herself a seat, finally feeling safe after a day of hiking through the Waste.

“If you’re a witch it’d be best for you to get out now, while you still can.” warned a low voice. Marinette’s eyes sprung open and tried to find the source.

“I’m not a witch I’m sorry, I’ll only be a little while, I just need some rest before I go.” She turned her head and scanned all about the room but could find no one responsible for speaking to her.

“I’m inclined to believe you, hand me another log, will ya?” She turned and saw a flaming set of eyes staring back at her. Literally, the flame in the pit had eyes that were burning and staring right at her.

“Oh, yes,” she turned to the pile of chopped wood and grabbed a hefty log. She gently placed it over the flame and he devoured it, burning brighter and bigger now.

“You’re under a curse,” the flame spoke louder this time, “join the club,”

“Are you a wizard?” She inquired, unable to break away from the fire’s gaze.

“No, I’m more powerful than any wizard in the Waste, but just like you, my powers are stifled with this curse.”

She licked her lips, ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I’m no witch, though. I’m just trying to break this curse, you see I-” before she could continue her lips stayed shut in a tight line. Her voice could carry through but they were muffled by her immobile mouth.

“Whoever got you, got you good,” the flame cackled, “I wish I could tell you what my curse is too, but these folks smarted up. No telling on what your curse is.”

“Then how do I break it?” Marinette managed once she could open her mouth.

“How about I make you a deal?” The flame had a wicked smile and Marinette wondered if she was making a mistake.

“What are the terms?”

“The master of the house is a wizard, and he won’t accept a witch staying here. I’ll plead your case if you promise to break my curse.”

“What about  _ my  _ curse?” Marinette protested, “and I keep telling you I’m no witch.”

“That’s exactly why you’re not a witch, because you keep  _ saying  _ that,” the flame waved in a way that looked like arms tossed up in exasperation, somehow, “and you’ll have two powerful sources of magic here to help you break the curse, me and the master. That’s a two-for-one deal you won’t get anywhere else!”

Marinette licked her lips as she thought of the alternative, dying in the Waste with none the wiser to her affliction. “What’s your name, deal-making magician.”

“Not a magician, but you can call me Plagg,” he nodded.

“Nice to meet you, Plagg, I’m Marinette,” she nodded back to him, “and you have a deal.”

“Great, nice to meet you Marinette. I’ll hold you to that deal, you know, so don’t forget it.”

“I won’t,” she promised. Silence overtook them, as silent as a castle like this could be with all its motion, “so what now?”

“Now we wait,” was all Plagg replied.

Marinette would’ve fought him for more answers but she was so tired. Every cell in her body felt heavy, and the chair could’ve been made of sharp rocks and she still would’ve likely dozed off in the warm glow of Plagg’s flame. She was gone before she knew it.

By the time she awoke the sun was high in the sky. She heard the clatter of bottles clicking and papers rustling when she opened her eyes. The light was filtered through the dirtiest windows she’d ever seen, worse than any abandoned building in her town. She righted herself and cursed as she felt an ache in her lower back.

“Plagg, the Seine,” a small voice called and then, the click of a bell. Marinette turned to the door, the source of the sound and saw a small cloaked figure walk out of the door. She noticed then a dial with four colors - blue, green, red, and black. The dial currently pointed to blue.

When the door rushed open, Marinette was met with muddy brown eyes, “Are you a witch?”

“Don’t mention it to Adrien or he’ll flip,” Plagg said behind her.

The hood came off to reveal a bright young face, “You let a witch in? From where?”

Marinette was about to interject that she was  _ not _ in fact a witch when Plagg said, “The Waste.”

“The Waste! What will the master say,” the girl groaned, clasping her head in her small hands. It was adorable and Marinette involuntarily smiled at the gesture.

“I’m no witch, that demon is lying to you.” Marinette’s voice sounded so grandmotherly, maybe she should stay in this body forever, “I’m Marinette, just an old woman that got a little lost.”

The girl peered up and seemed to accept this explanation, “I’m Manon, Adrien’s apprentice and soon-to-be the most powerful witch in France!”

A gurgle interrupted their greeting and Manon flushed, “Sorry, haven’t eaten yet,” she grumbled and ran over to the table. Piled high on the wide surface were books, scrolls, and hundreds of knicknacks and random objects. From somewhere in this mess, Manon found a half loaf of bread that looked so stale Marinette could feel her parents throwing a fit on her behalf.

She peered over and spotted a basket of eggs, “Is there a pan, Manon?”

Manon looked at Marinette like she set the room on fire, “There is, but only Adrien cooks.”

Marinette waved her hand in the air, dismissive as she replied, “Hand me a pan, we’re making eggs.”

Manon nodded and dug out from the wreckage a black cast iron pan. She passed it to Marinette who had to hold it with both hands. She almost forgot that in the chaos, she was still an old woman.

“Manon is right, only Adrien cooks in this castle,” Plagg warned right as Marinette hovered the pan over him.

“Adrien is the master, I understand. How will the master feel about our little deal, then?” Marinette pushed the pan down with a little more pressure, “You  _ will  _ relent to me.”

“You wretched witch,” he hissed but complied. Plagg burned blue and low as Marinette made quick work to grab an egg from the basket.

“How do you like your eggs?” Marinette asked as she cracked the egg over the pan.

“What I’d like to know is how you got Plagg to behave,” that bright voice sounded like a song and Marinette’s ears rang with its reverb. Standing next to her was the wizard she had run into just the day before. She might’ve heard Manon call his name, Adrien, but she couldn’t be sure. His black cape draped over her shoulder as he leaned in to take control of the pan.

“What happened, Plagg?” He smiled at the little flame.

“She’s your new cleaning lady, I interviewed her and everything.” he hissed under the pan. “Her name is Marinette.”

“Is that so?” He looked at Marinette with that dazzling gaze, “Then, would you mind passing me a few more eggs, Marinette?”

She merely nodded, starstruck as she passed him three more eggs. He made quick work of dropping them into the pan. He tossed the shells at Plagg who gobbled them up. They sizzled until the whites were shiny and opaque.

“Manon, bring a kettle for tea,” he instructed, turning to Marinette then, “breakfast is ready.”

Manon cleared the table as Adrien brought the pan over to plate each. He sliced off each piece of bread, the whole loaf looked pliable in his palms and she wondered as he passed her a slice if he used magic to make it fresher.

They made quick work of eating, swallowing big gulps of tea that was slightly bitter from steeping too long, but much better than the cold bread and cheese Marinette had been scarfing down to keep herself going the day before.

“So, Marinette, when are you going to show me what’s in your pocket?” Adrien tilted his head, “It’s clearly addressed to me.”

Marinette frowned, she reached for her pocket and felt a square of parchment folded in there, just as he said. She went to hand it to him but it sparked at his touch. The paper burned and set a mark in the middle of the wooden surface.

“That wasn’t, I had no idea-” Marinette stuttered as Adrien drifted his hand over it.

“I know,” he grunted, “This is  _ her  _ mark.” He finished pushing against it and just as quickly did it brandish the furniture, it disappeared.

“The Witch of the Waste,” Manon marveled.

Adrien nodded, “Apologies, I can’t stay long.” he kept his conversation curt as he made his way up the stairs.

Marinette watched in wonder until the last of his black cape was out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you read the book you already know this but Sophie originally had the ability to cast spells using her words, literally sometimes speaking things into existence. Hope this helps as the story moves along!


	3. Curses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV shift! Also there's a bit of a time lapse between the last chapter and this chapter.

Adrien drifted into the castle, his limbs felt heavy and his eyes barely stayed open. The door slammed shut behind him and it took every ounce of effort to get his body to walk up the stairs and plop down onto the chair.

Plagg emerged cautiously, “You look terrible,”

Adrien leaned his head back and sighed, even laughter was tough right now, “Thanks, Plagg.”

The flame was probably right, his body was halfway to becoming a full on beast. Black fur covered him from head to toe, with black claws jutting from where his nail beds used to be. His teeth were as sharp and gaudy as a shark’s. He took a deep breath and retracted his black cat form.

By the time his skin returned to normal he was panting.

“One day you won’t be able to turn back,” Plagg warned in a voice that was kind. It sounded almost concerned, as if the demon would miss him if he really did transform into a beast.

Adrien coughed in response, standing up was easier now that his body didn’t weigh much more than he could handle. He stepped towards the crawlspace where Marinette has set up a makeshift sleeping area. He leaned against the wall as he drew the curtain back, revealing one sleepy Marinette, un-plagued by wrinkles and free as he saw it days prior. Her face looked serene in the dim glow of Plagg’s firelight. Her hair, black as night framed her face like the night surrounding a full moon.

He lifted a hand over her, trying a spell to keep her in this form, her real form. Young and true to her actual age. He knew after a minute that his magic was pouring from him and right off of her like water to oil. He pulled his hand back and closed the curtain before he did something stupid like pass out on top of her.

Adrien made the arduous climb upstairs and wondered what dreams Marinette must be having to have her so at peace like that. He wondered when she broke her own curse and placed her own to replace it.

Adrien waited until he heard Marinette and Manon leave for the market to make his escape.

“Marinette will be back in an hour or so,” Plagg mentioned as he passed by.

Adrien paused as he stood before the door, “So?”

“Don’t act the fool, I can hear you charming your clothes before you enter the room,” Plagg laughed maniacally, “You enjoy her smart remarks about your ridiculous habits and I fear even her old hands are not enough to keep you from holding them.”

He thought of every incriminating moment that had led Plagg to that conclusion. She had at one point called him careless and brash and he balked, less offended than just surprised. When she caught him spelling the staircase to creak less so that she wouldn’t be disturbed by his late night excursions she ruffled his hair and told him his heart was as golden as his curls. He basked until she made a comment saying she’d enjoy having a grandson like him.

And that was it, wasn’t it? She was forgetting that she had not, in fact, lived nearly a century on this Earth, but a fraction of that time.

He frowned as he turned the dial on the door. He had to figure it out before she aged herself any further. He swore it was like the girl added years to her own life every time she talked about her cursed age.

Adrien came back with books and stones and herbs tucked under his arm. He was careful with the door, night had already fallen and it was well past a reasonable hour to be coming home.

“Welcome back, I’d think by this time you’d be sleeping somewhere else, with someone else,” Plagg snickered.

The implication was not lost on Adrien but he elected to ignore it in favor of placing his belongings on the table. He sat cross legged in front of Marinette’s curtain before closing his eyes. He reached his hands out and tried a different spell.

He could feel his magic pushing off her, and he lowered his arms. Adrien frowned until he heard her shift.

Adrien had no reason to pull the curtain back. The first time was to confirm what he already knew, to see the proof with his own eyes. This time, there was no such alibi.

He gently nudged the curtain with his hand and seeing her face brought a fire to the pit of his stomach. Her head was cradled in her hands, cheeks soft and smooth and her lips jutted out as she sighed.

Adrien resisted the urge to push a particularly stubborn piece of hair behind her ear, or worse, cup her cheek under his palm to feel exactly how soft her skin was.

Instead he lifted a gentle hand and tried a different spell. He prodded at her with his magic but to no avail.

He sat like that, his face mere centimetres from her’s until fear replaced the awe and he closed the curtain before she caught him in an act he couldn’t defend. He stood up and collected his belongings before silently climbing the steps to his room. He’d study these new materials and try again tomorrow.


	4. Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Marinette's POV, and sorry that the course of events are out of order from both the movie and the book. Thanks for reading this far!

Marinette was never one for over-cleanliness, but now that it felt her life depended on it, she got to work, enlisting the help of Manon and getting Plagg to heat up plenty of water for them to scrub every surface.

Adrien didn’t seem to notice, habitually leaving for most of the hours of the day and only giving the instruction of avoiding the upstairs as much as possible - a mistake she made only once and a meltdown ensued following a lot of mysterious goo from the man in question.

When he had awoken they lamented the war in what was practically small talk. Like they were friends, like it was the easiest thing in the world to exchange agreements over tea. He admitted how he was avoiding the draft the king called for all wizards, but before she could ask for more details, he changed the subject.

Marinette would sweep the dust from the floors as Manon sorted the papers and books. She washed every surface, scrubbed the windows of grime from both the inside and out of each dial color, all except the black which Plagg explained was forbidden. Manon made things easier, listening and following her instructions with eager enthusiasm. Plagg was also more compliant to her needs, at one point heating the room up to make the wet streaks dry faster at her request.

When Marinette drew back the curtain as she awoke, Adrien was already there, fully dressed and hair neatly done.

“Marinette!” Adrien called and Marinette narrowed her eyes. She didn’t trust this wizard as much as she gave him credit for. She could practically  _ hear _ Alya’s “I-told-you-so!”

“Yes?” she clamored down the steps no faster as the blonde practically bounced in place, clearly impatient to reveal whatever it was he was doing.

It was strange, she thought as she stood before him, seeing him in the bright light of day. Normally she caught glimpses of him as he came back into the night, or slinking past the door in the early morning when perhaps he thought no one was yet awake.

She kept that to herself of course, he could have whatever affairs holding him up all he wanted. Plagg had assured her that a way to break the spell was in the works, though she remained skeptical of the spirit.

“I thought a lot about what you said,” he started and she frowned.

“I’ve said a lot to you, what are you talking about, specifically?” she tried to run back their recent conversations, but nothing stuck out in particular.

“About the draft.” His smile became wicked then, and Marinette grew worried at the way that grin seemed more menacing.

She didn’t know why she agreed to his ridiculous proposition. There was no way this plan would work, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to refuse him. His green eyes seemed to shimmer with hope, and she vaguely wondered if he had put her under a curse as well as she walked down the well-paved street.

Marinette had never walked through the gates leading to the General’s estate. She kept her political opinions quiet before her customers and coworkers back in the shop. It was no good to stir trouble when she wanted to stay in business, but Adrien seemed to listen, even if he didn’t agree. Though more often than not, he just didn’t understand. She thought him lucky to be able to escape the world like that, and she envied him somewhat for that.

Before she could think much of it, she spotted an old dog trutting next to her.

“ _ I’ll be following close behind, don’t worry _ ,” Adrien had assured her before nudging her out the door.

_ No way _ , Marinette scoffed, but sure enough, as she crossed the street, so too did the dog.

“I’d think with your alter ego, you’d stay on theme,  _ Chat Noir _ .” She whispered and the dog did little more than huff.

She continued as quickly as her old legs could, before she heard footsteps fast approaching behind her, “Don’t block the way, grandma.” The voice called and Marinette felt bile rise up her throat at the sound.

In a carriage carried by four masked shadows, the Wicked Witch of the Waste gleamed a wide, evil smile at Marinette. Marinette kept her cool as she staunchly ignored the other woman. 

The shadows continued past Marinette as the witch was now right next to her. “What’s wrong, old friend?”

Marinette scoffed, continuing on as the gates approached their view, “And what business do you have with the general?”

“I’ll have you know, he called  _ me _ to his side. Clearly he knew that I was worth more than he initially saw. No matter, It’s never too late to beg for my forgiveness.”

“Do you really think the general is a man who begs for forgiveness?”

The witch paused before replying, “Thanks for delivering my message to Chat Noir.”

“Is that what this curse is about, some lover’s spat.”

“That’s right, we’re the greatest lovers, the strongest wizard and the most powerful witch in the land!”

Marinette huffed, “Fine, I sent your message, now release me of this curse so I can go home.”

The Witch of the Waste laughed at that, “I’m good at casting spells, not breaking them. Now if you’ll excuse me,”

They had reached the threshold of the gates. In gilded wrought-iron swirls lay the open gates to a fenced area. It was no secret the general’s home, but still Marinette was awed to be here. She was almost so struck by the beautiful gardens, but not enough to miss the Witch of The Waste crawling out of the carriage from before. Her shadow men were melting into the lush grass and the woman argued with the guards.

Marinette turned and was greeted by another guard.

“This way, Madame Noir,” his voice called. She was glad they were far enough away from anyone else for them to overhear. It was embarrassing how red her cheeks were at the use of the name.

_ It’s not like we’re married. I’m now old enough to actually be his mother _ .

Sometimes Marinette would forget that her body decayed beyond the window of her attraction. Though her heart and mind were young, her body was no longer suitable to follow through, and the way that the curse-breaking quest was going, she may perish before she ever returned to her actual age.

The guard guided her through the halls of the intricate building, followed by the sounds of the dog somehow keeping pace. For such a small creature, it was surprisingly energetic.

They reached the end of the corridor and the light filtering through the glass nearly blinded her.

The humidity was much higher than outside. Marinette walked down the tile path and saw emerald green leaves as wide as her torso growing in every direction imaginable. By the time she reached the set of chairs and tea table, she was nearly in a daze.

“Master Fu,” the guard nodded to the old man seated at the table, “Madame Noir has arrived.”

“Yes, take a seat, why don’t you.” Fu waved his hand as his eyes stayed glued to a book on the table. He skimmed one more line before looking up at her.

Marinette took a seat across and folded her hands over the table, before realizing that was rude and folding her hands over her lap instead.

The man seemed to find this amusing, closing the book and pushing it aside to give Marinette his full attention, “Madame Noir, you are Chat Noir’s mother, I hear,”

Marinette looked down at the dog,  _ Adrien if I screw this up I’m sorry _ , she tried to mentally say before actually speaking up, “That’s correct. An old mother who is sick and tired of her son being a coward.”

“Is that so?” he nodded along.

“Yes, in fact he is such a coward he sent me along to beg that you spare him. Well I’m here to tell you the boy is useless, utterly useless! A uniform would be wasted on him.” Marinette walked through the script he gave her and when she reached her impassioned end she had to catch her breath.

“You’re quite articulate on the matter,  _ Mademoiselle _ .” Fu gave her a calm smile, “First I’d like to say thank you for escorting Tikki back.”

“Tikki?” She breathed. Marinette looked down to the floor and saw the dog she assumed was Chat Noir scurry over to the man’s ankle.

“She’s a wise familiar, don’t let her form fool you.” he spoke carefully, “tell me, is Adrien doing well?”

Marinette swallowed hard. It was suddenly hard to breathe, she wasn’t prepared in any capacity for these questions, let alone to hear Adrien’s name come from Fu’s mouth. 

“Tell me he’s not homeless.” Fu said earnestly and Marinette bit back a small smile, schooling her expression.

“I assume so, I’m not keeping track of him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I think you should be. He spends his time and magic doing whatever it is he wants all while his country joins forces to fight in the war.”

“I don’t think that it’s fair to punish the people for a war the leaders decided on in their own interests.” Marinette kept her anger at bay but she was seeing red.

“Tell me,  _ Mademoiselle _ , if you’re not keeping track of your boy, how do you know where he’s going? How do you know he’s not out doing bad things?” His voice was sharp as he responded, “How would you feel about that, then?”

Marknette shook her head, she had a mission here and she was going to accomplish it, “He’s a coward but he’s not a bad person. He’s good at heart and this war is nothing but a game to you people! It’s all politics,” Marinette recalled every detail Alya revealed to her about the true nature of the war. That it was entirely preventable and now they were in the midst of it, for no good reason. She thought of Adrien potentially throwing his life away, scared and alone on a battlefield somewhere far and she wanted to throw her arms around him and run far away from it all. Truthfully, she’d do anything to save him from that reality, including speaking back to the general of their army with such ferocity.

“I get it now,” Fu nodded, “ _ Mademoiselle _ , you love him, don’t you?”

His knowing look is what pierced through her. She felt her chest get heavy as his title for her finally registered. She was not young enough to be called  _ Mademoiselle _ , especially posing as Adrien’s mom. Which meant either her curse was lifted miraculously or he could see through it much in the same way Plagg could.

Fu pondered a moment longer before nodding, “Indeed, your cursed form is a temporary safety blanket.” Fu shook his head, “Do not let it blind you. It is dangerous to let him do whatever he wants. His powers are chaotic and he selfishly uses his powers to benefit himself. He will end up no better than Lila at this rate.”

Marinette thought of every instance of Adrien using his magic and couldn’t find any particular fault with the man. It was not like he was hurting other people. She shook her head and met Fu’s gaze, “I’m not sure what you mean by that, who is Lila?”

“Ah, how foolish of me, you better knew her as the Witch of the Waste. So much talent, for naught, I’m afraid.”

Marinette blinked, “What do you mean ‘for naught’? What did you do to her?”

Fu frowned at that, “We did not hurt her, only stripped her of her power.”

Marinette set her jaw, she couldn’t believe her ears, “You speak of Adrien doing poorly for himself, but he’s a good person at heart. You, on the other hand, are nothing more than a tool for the war. You will  _ not _ take his magic, I won’t allow it!”

Fu’s eyes grew wide. He looked at his hands and back at Marinette, “What did you just do?”

Marinette tilted her head just as a guard bustled into the room.

“Message for the general!” He called and stood at attention a few feet away.

“Most interesting,” Fu gave a nod to the man, “What is the message?”

“A telegram from the Minister, it sounds like negotiations are in place, halt all action until further instructions.”

Fu kept his eyes on Marinette as he responded, “I see.”

Marinette looked hopefully at the guard and then back at Fu, “It sounds like you’re quite busy. I’ve said all I need to say, I’m going to go home now.”

“I can see you out,  _ Mademoiselle _ .” The guard bowed.

“Going so soon, Adrien? Your father misses you.” Fu’s knowing smile stopped Marinette as she stood up. “You should know better than to use your father’s title against me.”

“Master Fu,” the guard tipped his head back up and revealed the face of none other than Adrien, “It’s been a long time, you look well.”

“Adrien, enough with this foolishness. I can protect you.” Fu had a look of genuine concern on his face, “You’re still so young.”

Adrien shook his head, “I’ll come back when I’m ready. When this whole pointless mess is over.”

Marinette didn’t notice she had leaned closer to Adrien, only that she wanted to leave this stuffy greenhouse as soon as possible, “Let us go, Fu.”

Fu sighed, “ _ Mademoiselle _ , I’d appreciate if you didn’t cast spells that I already planned on doing.”

“What?” Marinette blinked and Fu tilted his head.

“Oh, have you not told her? Surely you noticed, young Agreste.” Fu stood up as he continued, “Keeping her under your thumb like you did with Lila, I see.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Adrien shook his head, “This isn’t like that at all. You misunderstand.”

“No, I see right through you. You say that you’re a coward and I’m surprised to say I agree. You are a coward, Adrien. You cannot run away and expect everything to be ok. There are complicated circumstances for everything. Yes, the war is stupid, just blind violence in the name of meaningless values. But at least here I can protect our men, at least here no one else will utilize the powers of magic for much worse.”

Fu shook his head, sitting back down, “Go, before her magic wears off and I start coming to my senses.”

With a wave of his hand, Marinette and Adrien were pushed out the door. Adrien held onto Marinette’s shoulders before they were stumbling out of the building.

She could breathe again in the sun. She felt her lungs expand so easily and sighed a breath of relief.

“Are you ok?” Adrien looked down at her, his hands still holding her shoulders, “What did he say?”

“Something about taking Lila’s magic.” Marinette’s words trailed off as she recalled their conversation. It was a lot to take in, and suddenly she felt so small. “What did he mean by ‘keep her under your thumb’?”

Adrien blinked and rubbed her arms, “I’ll explain when we get home.”

Marinette nodded, moving to take a step before feeling something tug against her dress. She turned and saw Tikki, biting the corner of her dress to little avail. The dog was so small in all the layers of fabric, Marinette had to laugh.

“Oh Tikki, how did you end up here?” Marinette pulled her dress from the little dog’s mouth, “Goodbye, little one.”

Instead, the dog trailed behind them. Adrien dismissed it, even as the dog crossed into the threshold of the house with them.

Marinette wondered if all the magic she was exposed to has slowly reduced her standard for what was normal. Tikki hoped around and Plagg would not stop talking to her.

“Tikki, what are you doing?” Plagg asked as if the dog could answer. Tikki paid the flame no mind, sniffing around the pit.

“Get down,” Marinette ordered, and Tikki hopped down.

“Wait, Tikki, come back,” Plagg whined and Marinette put her hand up in protest.

“Stay down, girl.” She commanded and the dog sat obediently.

“No fair,” Plagg pouted. Marinette just shook her head incredulously.

She turned and saw Adrien beckoning her up the stairs. She complied immediately, accepting his hand as he led them to his room.

It was a cluttered mess of trinkets and magical objects of which she could only assume their use. Despite her thorough cleaning in every other area of the castle, she never even dared to touch the door to his room. It was both an order she obeyed and a sense of respect she did not want to betray. He flopped down into the large bed in the middle of the space, wide enough to fit three. Marinette resisted the urge to lie down, though her aged joints were practically creaking from stress. She instead grabbed a chair and pulled it in to sit right by the side of the bed.

“Master Fu, as tiring as always.” Adrien whined as he threw the guard hat off his head. He unbuttoned the large overcoat to reveal another button up underneath. He was sweating through the white fabric and Marinette let her eyes wander over the sparkling items around the room rather than look at the man undressed before her.

“Were you his apprentice?” Marinette asked in a low voice.

Adrien sighed, looking up at the ceiling with her, “That’s right, apprentice, heir to the Agreste magical legacy, and disgraced wizard who could not finish his training. I fled the Academy as soon as the first battle broke.”

Marinette nodded, though she knew little of any magical Academy. Her mind was running faster than she could in her current form, “What about The Witch of the Waste?”

“Lila?” Hearing him say her name was its own form of pain, one that Marinette did not want to admit to feeling. Thankfully he continued, “There’s not much to say. She lied to me about a lot of things, and true to Fu’s observation I’m a coward. Instead of confronting her about the way she was using her magic, I ran. In that way, it’s my fault I involved you in any of this, and I’m sorry.”

Marinette looked down at her hands, covered in wrinkles and those callouses that just got harder and ugly with time. She considered Adrien’s words as she turned her hands over in her lap. “What have you been using your magic for?”

He seemed to understand the implication of her words immediately, “Vain things, like my looks, making all the food I eat fresh and delicious. Ensuring that despite my terrible eating habits, I don’t gain any weight. It’s all stupid. The most useful thing I do is sell enchanted items or spells locally so I could keep a living.”

“In the town by the market.” Marinette clarified and Adrien nodded.

“Flowers that are resistant to wilting, Candles that burn longer, charms to keep bugs out of the kitchen. These townfolks love them, and want nothing more than simple conveniences. Surely you understand.”

“In my shop?” Marinette asked.

“Yes, I’ve seen you stitch Manon’s hem. You tell it to stay in place, not to unfurl despite Manon’s constant distressing it. The same goes for those dresses you design. I have no doubt a woman could seduce any man of her choosing in a dress you design if you tell it to do so. And not for any lacking in your design either, it’s why it works so well. Your skill enhances your magic.” Marinette thought of the way she would sit under the candlelight, stitching each seam and weaving a story in her own mind of the woman who would buy this dress. She would dazzle the crowd in layers of baby blue tulle, her voice a song in it’s own right, the music elevating her to a heartstruck crowd. She’d arrange feathers over a hat and tell a story of a girl strolling through town on a bright sunny day. The hat keeping her cool and her hair resistant to frizzing despite the humidity. She would shine as she leisurely looked through shop windows and enjoyed a busy afternoon in Paris.  _ You’ll keep her happy and safe _ , she’d whisper low, so only her needle and thread could hear her.  _ Happy _ , thread in,  _ and safe _ , thread out.

“Is that why Plagg keeps calling me a witch?” Marinette still didn’t meet Adrien’s gaze, even as his praise warmed her cheeks considerably.

“It’s why Tikki is following you around so obediently.” Adrien nodded at the scratching at the door, undoubtedly from the dog in question, “A familiar knows to stay close to its master.”

Marinette sat up, “I need to do the laundry early tomorrow, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course,” Adrien’s voice was soft. She turned and tried to keep her breathing level as she exited the room so slowly.

  
  


That morning, Marinette woke to a scream upstairs. She ran up and heard the source from the bathroom.

She knocked on the door and Manon opened the door, “There’s someone out there, Marinette!”

They looked through the small bathroom mirror and she saw then the shape of someone’s body caught in one of the wedged parts of the castle.

Plagg kept them in the Waste this morning, the castle now resting along the mouth of a small bank of water. Marinette ran to the balcony and called Manon along. She stood against the railing and got a better look instantly recognizing the figure leaning against the castle.

“Turniphead you fool,” her voice was extra gravely this morning, she wondered if her aging was accelerating but decided to ignore it for now. That scarecrow needed her now more than ever, “Get out of there!”

“Marinette, is that your friend? Do you know him?” Manon had to stand on her tippy toes to see beyond the railing, but she glanced up at the figure as the scarecrow began lifting itself, as if all it took were Marinette’s words to stand.

“He’s just a magical scarecrow as far as I know,” Marinette replied, “I think he’s close enough to grab, Manon help me pull him out of there.”

Marinette grabbed the arm and pulled. Manon reached over to help and they both pushed against the edge of the balcony to try and get him out.

“Get out, already!” Marinette grunted and with that, the next pull had freed the scarecrow and he was bouncing up against the edge of the castle, spinning as it hopped around.

“Was that a spell?” Manon peered over at Marinette.

“I’m just a poor old woman, what spells could I possibly know?” She sighed. Her body felt like she was aching all over suddenly, and she moved to hobble down the stairs.

“What are we doing today, I think we’re running out of stuff to clean,” Manon whined as they finally landed at the bottom of the steps.

True to her word, Marinette turned to Plagg

“Plagg, could I bother you for some extra hot water today?” Marinette placed an extra pile of logs by the flame, “I want to do some laundry.”

Plagg sighed, “Just keep these coming,” He grabbed a few logs in each hand, “and let Tikki do what she wants, she’s older than you are even in your cursed form.”

Marinette laughed, “Alright, Plagg. If you say so.”

Manon and Marinette gathered all the sheets and rags and clothes. They steeped them in batches in the bathtub upstairs, scrubbing out the dirt and grime before stringing them out on a clothesline. The scarecrow helped, pulling the line out in the Waste to let them dry.

Out in the fields, with their sheets strung up and blowing in the wind and soaking up the overcast sun, Marinette felt at peace. It was strange but she thought of how it might be, dying of old age here. It was a morbid thought but one that kept coming back to her. She settled on how she wouldn’t mind, watching Manon chase Tikki through the field. Like this, surrounded by the ones she ended up loving so much, she wouldn’t mind.

They were folding the laundry after lunch when Adrien returned. She didn’t get to see which color the dial was turned to when he came back, only hearing a faint click and then the bell of the door opening.

“Fine work, Marinette.” Adrien proudly spoke, “It even  _ smells _ better in here.”

“Master, Marinette freed a man with magic today,” Manon was practically bouncing at Adrien’s feet and Marinette shot her head up from the pile of linen she was currently wrestling.

“I did no such thing!” she scowled at the girl but that only drew a laugh from the man.

“Maybe one day she’ll extend the favor my way,” Adrien quipped. Before Marinette could process what he was implying, he walked over and with a wave of his hand all the cloth began folding in on itself into neat squares, “I think it’s about time we make some adjustments, shall we?”

And that was how they ended up sitting like ducks in a row, their feet tucked under them on the main table and Tikki obediently seated in Manon’s lap. Adrien had drawn a circle with all kinds of symbols and lines on the floor. Marinette watched in wonder before he stood up. He reached over and grabbed a fireplace shovel to lift Plagg from the ashes. She could hear him mumbling and Adrien quickly  _ shush _ -ed him before closing his eyes. His feet planted squarely in the middle of the circle, his arm lifted and light poured in from all around.

The castle shook like there was an earthquake. Manon clutched at Marinette’s dress as the walls began to expand, windows sizing up and new doors growing from the floorboards to new rooms, presumably. The whole ordeal took no longer than ten minutes but a change of this caliber would’ve taken a team of talented men years to complete.

“It’s safe now, you can come down.” Adrien beamed at them. Manon and Tikki sprinted off the table and began running laps around the room, marveling at every change. Marinette took a slow step down and let her eyes gaze at every new detail. The moulding on the walls were simpler, cleaned up of all the chipped edges and painted a solid white. There were curtains draped over the windows, tiling in the kitchen with a bright blue backsplash. The pots were hanging from the ceiling and an actual bookcase was against the wall. Even Plagg’s pit was now a brick masterpiece in comparison.

“What do you think?” Adrien walked over once he settled Plagg back to his rightful spot.

“It’s lovely,” Marinette’s voice was so quiet but she couldn’t get over how much the room had transformed, and right before her eyes, too!

“Come, there’s more.” He beckoned her along and she willingly followed behind.

“What are these new doors?”

“I’m glad you asked, My Lady.” He walked down the new hallway and for each door, opened it as he explained each, “A bathroom so you don’t have to go up the stairs to use one, the kitchen which is bigger and hopefully more accessible at your height,”

“Hey!” she protested but he only laughed and ushered her on.

“And finally, your own bedroom,” he opened the door and she was met with a large bed with the softest looking sheets, a full vanity, dresser, closet, and a desk facing the wide windows.

“Oh my god,” she breathed as she dared to step inside, “What are these?” she pointed at a pile of boxes.

“New clothes. You’ve worn that since you got here,” he nodded at her pink dress and she felt warm all over. He left her no room to ponder changing before he spoke again, “There’s something else I want to show you.”

She nodded, walking along as he brought them back to the main room.

He stood before the door and turned the lock above the knob. The dial turned and in the place of the red was a pink color that Marinette adored. The dial swung and the bell chimed as Adrien pushed the door open.

She gasped as they stepped outside, she couldn’t help it if she tried.

Hills of green and splotches of color like a painting, reds, yellows, pinks. More colors than she could ever hope to catalog. Marinette ran through the wild grass, the tall blades tickling her ankles but she didn’t care - it was beautiful, the sprawling fields all the way up to a lake that was shimmering a royal blue.

“Adrien it’s beautiful out here, it feels like a dream,” she turned at smiled at him with wonder in her heart. Her emotions were a flood and she grabbed Adrien’s hand and ran through the fields, needing to release the emotion threatening to drown her.

“I could say the same thing,” he murmured, slowing them down and taking the lead, “Let me show you something.”

They made their way down the hill, skipping over a stream that led them to a wide lake. At the edge, a cottage house made of stone and clay sat at the lip of where the stream trickled into the body of water. The surface glimmered like a gem of opal or diamond. Marinette could see the sun reflect against the water over Adrien’s face.

“I studied here as a young boy,” his voice was serious but his face stayed soft, “You can come here whenever you want, if Manon and I are ever bothering you, and you need a moment alone. You can pick the flowers too, I spelled them to grow no matter what. Hell, bring Manon and have her run around.”

Marinette laughed, she could imagine the girl trying to trample flowers that refused to bruise or break. “Thank you, Adrien.”

“Marinette,” Adrien’s voice had taken on a tender tone. It was only then when she realized how close he was to her. His hand was wrapped around her’s, and he stood over her as he did when they were on her balcony. He gave it a squeeze as he said, “You’re beautiful.” She wanted to cry, as if she stole something that was not her’s.

“You’re so kind, to an old woman that you only just met a month ago.” She shook her head, suddenly feeling her body ache as if the stress of her situation tumbled back over her, “I’m so lucky to have met you.”

He kept giving her this look that she couldn’t name. He smiled after a moment, and just like that they were back to normal, back to where she was comfortable, “Let me show you the rest of it,” he beckoned. She kept her hands busy with bunching up her skirt as they climbed back up the hill, reminding herself of her place with this man. She was now at least thrice his age, it was wholly inappropriate to cross that line, as if she ever stood a chance.

_ He has a type _ , Lila’s voice rang in her ears as she let him hold the door open for her.


	5. Battle Tactics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien's POV

Marinette. She made him lose focus, despite never drawing his attention herself. He would know, he never felt her command him with her magic.

Instead he felt her magic around him, everywhere else except his person. She kept the ashes from falling out of Plagg’s pit, kept the hardwood from squeaking, even speaking her magic to keep the new propagated plants alive against the new south-facing windowsill. Marinette kept the castle in better shape than when he first mashed it together from broken pieces of other houses. Nevertheless, that damn spell would not wear off.

He resorted to last ditch spells as she transplanted her radishes, or while she fixed a button on his other shirt. His eyes bore into her hunched back as he tried to lift that  _ damn _ spell. Curse Lila, at this point he would if he could.

There were rare moments where it was just her, Marinette as he saw her that Bastille Day under a brilliant blue sky. Today he managed to slip a charm at the dress she wore, it shone and folded in just the right way, with the boning standing straight in its bodice. Despite the fact that he provided her with a whole slew of outfits, she seemed to always rotate among a few of her found favorites. Her eyes were fixed on the seam for one of Manon’s few dresses. The girl kept growing and it seemed only Marinette paid any mind to adjusting her skirts as she got taller.

Marinette’s eyes followed the path of her needle, and they looked dreamy and half-lidded in the midday light. Adrien wanted to press his lips over each eye, feel her smiling cheeks under his thumbs as he cradled her youthful face. 

She must have sensed his lurking, slowly her face stretched like a cat waking from a nap. Her cheeks curled into wrinkles and just as quickly, he felt a twist in his stomach,

“You haven’t left yet?” Marinette called, not even looking up from her work.

“I’m about to go, I just wanted to say be careful. I instructed Manon to stay in, the War is closing in on us.” Adrien gathered himself and busied his hands with adjusting his cloak. It had gold embroidery along its velvety surface, his hair was delightfully flouncy today and the sun perfectly shone through it like a prism. Marinette’s eyes followed the tedious pattern in her hands and Adrien deflated muttering a quick, “Please stay safe.”

Marinette paused at that. She tilted her head up and met his eyes. Like porcelain, her expression was still as she looked at him with wide eyes, “You too. Stay safe, Adrien.”

Hearing her say his name so soundly made his ears ring. She watched him with a pursed lip, but somehow the spell stayed suspended, temporarily leaving her body and allowing Adrien one good look at her. He nodded once he realized he was staring, turning to exit while he had the chance.

Tikki was clearly Marinette’s familiar, the old dog in a strange turn of events choosing a new master in complete disregard for the standard procedure for new witches. Though small and old, the dog possessed a certain charm that even Plagg responded well to. Tikki wagged her tail eagerly for Manon, nuzzled her head under Marinette, and rested quietly at Plagg’s side.

For Adrien, Tikki seemed to dote on him by nudging him as he stood or walked. The dog seemed determined to push him along wherever it pleased, sometimes bringing him all the way across the castle just to be in the same room as Marinette.

If she caught on to Tikki’s antics, she said nothing of it. Instead electing to either ignore him or call the dog over to spare him. Today, he climbed down the steps and walked with intent over to Marinette’s room. He could hear her humming with the door open, but he knocked anyway.

“Come in,” she called knowingly. Her voice was always higher when she spoke to Manon, it only took this neutral tone with him. He wasn’t sure why that made him like her voice even more.

“Marinette,” he started, pushing the door further open. “I wanted to know if,” but the words died in his throat as his next step nearly met Tikki’s torso. Instead he tried to twist away before damaging the poor dog and he landed right above Marinette. One hand pushed the chair a little as his hand caught the back and the other laid flat on her desk. His face was mere centimeters from her’s and the dog scuttled away, clearly unharmed.

Adrien could feel the heat claw up his face and neck as he watched Marinette’s face in a rare young moment. Her eyes were wide but her face remained still as it registered Adrien’s embarrassment. From this close, Adrien could see the curve of her nose, the apples of her cheeks and the pink glow they had. He could see where her baby hairs framed the edge of her face and the long eyelashes batting over the shining blue of her eyes.

“Cat got your tongue?” Marinette smiled wide and a satisfied look in her eye struck Adrien with the strongest urge to lean over and kiss that smug look off her face. Instead, Adrien tried to compose himself as he righted his body. He coughed and tried again, never able to push down the heat from his face until after he left her room. 

The strangest thing to Adrien was that there was no in-between for Marinette. It was either young or old, but just as beautiful. He wanted to see her age, he realized one day. He wanted to see how she would get from the young woman he first met to the old woman she was accelerated to now.

Plagg never let him live it down as Adrien continued in his quest to break Marinette’s curse. Though he was strangely quiet tonight as Adrien slumped over the light of Plagg’s fire, book in hand as he studied until his candles burned out.

“Re-animation is not right, she’s not dead yet.” Adrien huffed as he turned another page.

“We might all be dead if this war continues.” Plagg un-helpfully reminded him, “Papillon will not stop simply because you’re in love.”

Adrien shut the book and slid it off the brick, only then feeling how dry and weary his eyes were, “I know that. Soon, Plagg, we’ll need to move the castle, withdraw from our hiding spots. They’re beginning to suspect the simultaneous absences of Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir.”

“You mean the fact that you’re going AWOL twice? That’s more heads than they can chop off of you,” Plagg chortled, the flame at the edge of the pit crackling as he laughed at his own response.

“Clever. Nonetheless, I’ll go after tomorrow.” Adrien moved to collect the books off the mantle.

“Why not now?” Plagg inquired.

“Marinette is expecting her step-sister, the late Mayor’s daughter. She hasn’t seen her family since being cursed.” Adrien sat up and stretched his back.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? How will she react to Marinette’s sudden change?” Plagg scowled.

Adrien passively waved at the flame, “Apparently, the town already knows of Marinette’s curse, a rumor floating around, those that spotted the Witch of the Waste the night she cursed her. We’ll break by dawn after.”

“If you say so,” Plagg huffed and Adrien dragged himself upstairs, electing to ignore the ancient demon’s heady tone.

Adrien moved at dawn, the air cool and misty as he slid the dial back to black. He carefully opened the door and let a breeze slide over him for just a moment before diving. He trusted Plagg to shut the door behind him as he descended. This was the easy part, the adrenaline rushing through his body as he transformed. The black fur overtaking his limbs as he turned into the beast known to most as Chat Noir, black as night and fearful. With claws that were as sharp as daggers, the strength in his body enough to break down stone walls like they were paper, but smart enough that he could recognize and enemy soldier from a fellow linesman. It was no wonder he was so heavily recruited.

He never wanted war, though his father, an influential political figure since before he was born, always seemed ready for it. He’d practically trained Adrien for it, both physically and politically. He was an agile diplomat, with none of the sensibilities that his skills otherwise alluded to. Fencing taught him quick reflexes, foreign affairs, the act of balancing his place in a conversation, and piano, supposedly patience. He thought of the chaos his partnership with Plagg ensued on his tutorship. His whole trajectory in life shifted, and he was riding life on the coattails of his own wistful whim.

He could only vaguely ponder what it meant now that he felt some sense of purpose with Marinette, some singular goal taking shape in his mind. It was the last thing he could think before he crashed right into the trees and on his feet.

_ Bombs, bombs overhead. The trees are not enough, the forest is not enough. _

_ Fire. Smoke, need to escape, need to go back. _

_ Plagg was right. _


	6. A Heavy Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's POV and the last part in this story! The next chapter will be an epilogue that I will hopefully get done soon. Thanks for reading this far and I'm happy I got to finish this fic for y'all

Marinette only had a few centimeters left on the seam she was stitching when the bell rang. She heard the door open and she tucked the fabric away to answer it.

Adrien had kindly switched the blue dial to her storefront. She hadn’t yet opened, but she appreciated being able to work at her old desk again.

“Hello, I’m sorry, we’re not yet open,” Marinette could only get the last word out before she felt the air leave her lungs. Chloe stood at the door frame in a bright yellow dress that shone like silk, like the perfect strands of blonde from her own head were tapered into meters of beautiful fabric. She looked at Marinette with a distraught look on her otherwise still face. “Marinette?” Her voice was shaky, a question more than it was an acknowledgement of the person before her.

“Afraid so,” Marinette sighed, walking around the countertop to the girl, “It’s good to see you, Chloe, I hope you’ve been well.”

“As much as possible,” Chloe laughed but it came out as a hollow sound, “I’m married now. Wealthy man, his estate is worth twice the fortune I lost from my mother’s side.”

“Good for you, Chloe. Congratulations,” Marinette smiled, knowing this was what Chloe wanted after all.

“Take this, it’s from your parents. Alya sends her best wishes.” Chloe shoved a satchel into Marinette’s hands, “I must be going now, but I’m glad I got to see you. Your parents will be happy to hear that you’re alive, even still under that wretched curse.”

Somehow hearing Chloe vehemently oppose the curse made Marinette feel all the better for it. In all the years they grew up together, Chloe was always in contrast to Marinette. It was comforting to know that when push came to shove, Chloe did love her, even subtley.

“Be well, Chloe, don’t worry about me. And send my well wishes to my parents and Alya too.”

Chloe merely nodded, turning on her heel and exiting the shop and leaving Marinette in the still quiet of dusk. She gripped the satchel in hand and watched Chloe through the window. She boarded an expensive- looking carriage, and somewhere in her heart Marinette knew Chloe’s wishes were genuine. She savored the moment before returning to her work station.

Marinette laid the satchel on the mantle in front of Plagg after she returned and dismissed herself to work. It went well for all of half an hour before she began to smell the stench of smoke coming from under her door. She stood up and tried to follow the source of the soot in the air.

Marinette ran out the door and over into the main room. She looked down at the tiny flame left of Plagg and tried to see if more wood would help the smoke. She had to use two hands to load logs into Plagg’s pit, and she managed to get a few in before a siren sounded from outside.

“Bombs?” Marinette gasped as she scurried to the windows, “Manon! Close the windows!” She called out as loud as she possibly could.

“Yes, Marinette!” She heard the girl from upstairs.

“Plagg get us out of here,” Marinette huffed as she shoved the last window closed, “Manon, are we all clear?”

“Yes, madame!” Manon called as she ran down the stairs. Tikki followed close behind, her legs moving as fast as they could to keep close to the girl.

“Plagg?” Marinette hobbled over to Plagg, feeling distress kicking in as the sirens got louder, “Plagg?”

The flame did not answer, instead burning low as the sirens got louder still.

“The storefront won’t hold, Manon, get us to the Waste, green!” Marinette cried as she tried to feed Plagg a log. Plagg continued billowing out thick clouds of smoke insead.

Manon hurried to the door, switching the panel to green and suddenly an eerie darkness overtook the windows. The sirens were further now, echoing across the plains instead of screeching outside the door.

Marinette knelt before the flame’s face, “Plagg, we had a deal, you can’t die here. What happened?”

The demon stirred, his face a fizzle of the one she first saw, “You said your step-sister gave you that?” he motioned vaguely to the satchel.

Marinette picked the offending bag up and felt it limp in her hands, “What was that?”

“You tell me, I feel awful.” Plagg huffed.

A crashing sound jolted the whole house, the floors shook and all the porcelain clattered behind the cabinet doors. “Plagg, we need to move south, what do you need?”

“Something of yours,” Plagg coughed, the smoke a ghastly gray color, “like your eyes, I could use those.”

“Something of mine?” Marinette’s mind raced as that crashing sound got closer, “What about my hair?”

She pulled the pleated braid away from herself. Marinette stood perfectly still as Plagg reached over and clipped it from her head. He chewed it down and the dim light knocked her back as it exploded into a conflagration.

Marinette could only hear the creak and groan of the castle’s foundation ripping apart. The entire top floors splintered from the sudden rush of Plagg’s power. The bricks were crumbling but the room remained somewhat intact as Plagg burned brighter than the sun in midsummer.

“South, Plagg! Lead us south!” Marinette tried as the inferno that was Plagg burned so bright. The sound of ripping flames and bombs detonating outside made it hard for Marinette to ensure Plagg understood anything she was saying.

What remained of the castle creaked as it moved in a rapid wave down the plains of the Waste. It shook the whole foundation of the house. Dishes shattered and even the heavy furniture shifted as the house ran as fast as it could away from the battle.

“Manon, come here,” Marinette pulled the girl into her arms from under the main table. Tikki tucked herself between Marinette’s legs. “We’ll be relatively safe here.”

It was hard to tell how far they were going, the structure trembled under the floorboards as Marinette kept Manon close in her arms. Marinette tried to hear past the machinations of the castle moving but she couldn’t make out any other sounds than the amplified grind of wood and steel.

“Imagine what I could do with your heart!” Plagg cackled in a voice that boomed past the intense sounds.

“My heart?” Marinette repeated, only to cut herself off as the whole room began to shake with what must have been a hit from a bomb. The walls cracked and more of the castle must have been breaking off. Chunks of the ceiling came breaking apart and raining down the whole room. It was a rain like hail, with the addition of dust that clouded the air.

“Marinette!” Manon clutched at Marinette’s dress and Tikki with both her hands.

“Hold on, Manon!” Marinette swept an arm around the girl as Plagg righted what was left of the house. The table toppled over and Marinette held Manon the other way. It flipped and crashed into the wall, breaking through some of the underlying brick.

“Are you alright, Manon?” Marinette sat up and grasped the child in her arms. “Are you hurt?”

Manon shook her head, burying her face in Tikki’s fur “No, are you?”

Marinette laughed, wiping the smudge off of Manon’s cheek, “I’m not either. Good, that’s good.” 

Manon nodded, wide eyed and taking in the last semblance of the room, “Where’s Master Adrien?”

Marinette frowned, “We need to find him.” She sat up and searched the space. “Manon, stay seated with Tikki. It’s not safe.”

Marinette shakily stood and walked to Plagg, still a brilliantly hot blue, but losing power, “Plagg, we need to find Adrien.”

“I won’t last that long, I’m telling you. An organ would last me years.” Plagg laughed like he was mad, “Adrien might not make it back, anyways.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette cried, trying to make sense of Plagg’s words.

“He’s a beast, true to his namesake. Chat Noir wields a power he can barely withhold in his body.”

Marinette recalled a recurring dream she’d had in her time at the castle, the long windy tunnel, with just a candle in her hand. She’d hold the light up and a towering black cat with the brightest green eyes stared back at her. She’d call his name but he’d be gone in a whirlwind. 

“It’s starting to rain.” True to Plagg’s word, Marinette could feel the wet droplets against her cheek from the cracks in the ceiling. She looked up and could only brace herself as she watched another bomb drop above them. It would have killed them had it landed, without the protection of the castle they were vulnerable. She thought she saw a shadow of black redirect the artillery.

Before Marinette could ponder it further, the crash bellowed across the plain. The room tilted again and the bomb’s blast knocked what remained of the room into a flurry against the night sky. Books and bricks and dust swirled as Marinette realized they were airborne.

The light of Plagg’s flame illuminated them against the black of night and the exposed rainy air. She felt her body tumble against the debris and grass as she watched just the floorboard fixed to a pair of metal legs saunter away into the night with Manon, Tikki, and Plagg in tow.

Marinette opened her eyes to a hazy mist and a cool darkness that told her that dawn would break in an hour or two at most. The pain along her back shot through Marinette as she tried to stand. She looked around at the tall pile of rubble and realized she was alone. She recalled Manon seated and Plagg running through the rain, staggering against the hilly terrain.

She felt a sob choke in her chest but held it in her throat. Her nose clogged up and she tried to breath through her mouth, but found that the tears welled up in her eyes anyway.

She rubbed her face with her elbow and staggered up onto her feet. Adrien might still be out there, Marinette thought and tried to keep her heart steady.

“Adrien!” Marinette called into the navy blue sky. Not even the stars twinkled as she took a careful step forward, “Chat Noir?”

She took another step forward and looked over the horizon. It looked like a house crashed into another house on the plains. The grass was overtaken by broken off planks of wood, crumbled cement, and beams of metal that got chewed up under the weight and stress of the attacks.

She spotted the door propped unnaturally up and climbed down to reach it. She stood before the piece of wall that suspended the door. Even the moulding stayed in-tact despite the danger that they endured. “Take me to him,” she heard it click, despite the missing color wheel, and took a breath. Marinette placed her hand gently on the knob, and turned it. Through the darkness, she could see a hazy light coming in from the other side. She fully swung the door open and took a step in. Her feet met a flat surface as she took another step.

The door shut behind her and she elected to ignore it as she stepped into the space. In the almost glowing light, the room illuminated showing the study Adrien showed her, by the crystal lake. Marinette looked over the table and found books and papers splayed out. Before she could study them, she saw a flash in her peripheral vision. From the window, she could see it again, a bright, colorful meteor shower. As she stepped outside, she could see them falling in an arc and down into the water with a flashing spark that fizzled into its murky depths.

“Adrien?” Marinette looked closer at a figure in the middle of the water. Suspended over the surface she could see a head of blond. She ran down to the edge of the lake and called again, “Adrien!” 

Marinette kept running, as fast as she could with her skirt catching on the tall grass. She was closer with every step, and she could see his wide green eyes, watching as one bright light landed straight into his hands. It shone like a star, sparkling and glowing into a thousand scattering colors. He seemed to be speaking to it, she could see his mouth moving. He lifted his hands up and tipped the light back into his mouth like he would swallow a drink from a chalice. His whole body lurched and from his chest, he seemed to pull a blue flame into his palms.

“Adrien!” Marinette yelled. Her feet were no longer moving as darkness loomed under her. She looked up and saw his eyes locked on her’s, that familiar blue flame illuminating his extraordinarily young face, “Find me in the future!”

She could only hope that he heard her. She sunk into the black water of the lake, only she did not drown. Instead her legs kept running against nothing, her arms flung wildly as they searched for anything to grab onto. She finally reached her hand out and held tightly to the door knob. Her body seemed to move on instinct as she turned the handle of the door and pushed her way back out into the world.

Marinette stood against the open door frame and caught her breath as she kept her hand on one knee. She could see that same rubble under her feet as it was before, she was back.

Marinette righted herself and saw the black beast in her dreams, Chat Noir. She felt her eyes well up and ran over to him. In an instant she buried her face against the coarse fur, her hands gripped at him, holding him as close to her as she could.

“Chat Noir,” she sighed, drawing back, “Adrien. We need to find Plagg.”

He said nothing, instead lowering his front legs and allowing her to climb onto his back. She held onto his neck and in an instant, he was leaping into the air.

They were faster than Marinette could keep track of. They sliced through the air as Chat Noir bounded down the grass and rocks in the cool blue of dusk. Marinette had to close her eyes to keep herself from getting sick with how fast they were going. Eventually, Chat Noir leapt through the air again only this time, the solid muscle underneath her hands dissipated. Like feathers falling from the sky, they landed on the floor where Plagg and Manon were in a flurry of fur.

“Marinette!” Manon ran over, tears flowing from her eyes already, “I was so scared I thought we lost you forever!”

Marinette hugged Manon, “Never, I’ll always come back for you.”

“Master Adrien, you found him!” Manon looked over at Adrien’s body. He was laid down so neatly, fully human now that he was rid of all that fur, but unconscious against the shaky floor of the castle.

“He found me, actually.” Marinette let the eager Manon go and the girl crawled over to his side.

“Is he alright?” Manon looked over his face and searched for an answer within his still features.

“He will be, soon.” Marinette retorted, walking over to the pit. Tikki stood up from her place next to Plagg and wagged her tail at Marinette as she approached them. Plagg was not wrong, the rain left him but a small flicker in a pile of wet ash. She reached her hands in and scooped him into her palms, just as she saw Adrien do when he was a boy.

“Plagg, you there?” Marinette could feel the waning heat of him in her hands, but he was no warmer than another human being.

“Marinette, you’re alive, you made it.” Plagg coughed, “Tikki here said you went flying. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Thank you for keeping everyone safe, for keeping this thing together.”

“Don’t even mention it.” Plagg’s retort was quiet. The flame burned even lower and the whole floor shook a little. Marinette brought her hands up and laid Plagg a gentle kiss. He burned back up, his face illuminated and his eyes weary but still thankfully there.

“You finally broke that curse of yours.” He mumbled, a gentle smile on the flame’s face.

“It’s time to break your’s, my friend.” She said, just as quietly. Marinette walked back over to Adrien and knelt down. Manon watched as Marinette lowered Plagg over Adrien’s chest and watched it sink into his body.

A firework of light burst from Adrien’s chest. The echoing laugh of Plagg’s distant voice carried through the sky as the sun neary broke against the horizon.

Just as Marinette smiled up at the sky, the legs of the castle broke apart under them and once again they were crashing against the ground. The floor was sliding downhill rapidly as Marinette and Manon held onto each other and Adrien.

Manon was screaming, and Marinette thought she heard Tikki barking too as more bricks and planks went flying. As quickly as they began falling, the scarecrow jumped in front of the mess and slowed their momentous fall. They reached a halting stop right after knocking him down to his tattered jacket and straw arms.

“Turniphead!” Marinette grabbed the broken scarecrow in her arms. The crash left his head loose on his neck, his arms were askew and the vast length of him completely destroyed by catching their untimely fall.

Marinette gave a sad smile to the scarecrow, “Thank you, Turniphead, you saved us all.”

She gave him a small kiss on his wide toothed smile. The turnip wiggled and Marinette drew her arms back as the figure bounded out and landed on its feet as a man, fully dressed in a clean cut suit and top hat. In the rising sunlight, she stared at his wide smile and perfectly smooth tan skin as he bowed before her.

“Madame, you saved me. I am Prince Nino Lahiffe. I unfortunately fell under the spell of a wizard. For these past two years, I’ve been cursed to remain as a scarecrow until my true love’s kiss.” He rose and smiled down at the very stunned Marinette.

“Prince? Nino? That means you’re the one who,” Marinette searched her memory and fit the pieces together in her mind, “Disappeared!.”

“That’s right. Though I don’t know much about the political landscape now, I’ll see to it that this frivolous conflict comes to its much needed end.” He confidently bowed, “Thank you, my love.”.

“I’m sorry. I can’t be your true love.” Marinette looked down at Adrien’s body, hoping perhaps foolishly, that he would be ok, “but I have a friend who could catch you up on everything that’s happened. She’s extremely wise.” This answer seemed to please the prince enough.

“Ugh,” Marinette heard Adrien stir and she turned to face him. He sat up, his eyes adjusting to the light and his hand clutching his chest, “My body, ugh.” He groaned and lifted himself up further.

Marinette wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him up, “Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Marinette,” Adrien reached up to touch her cheek, “Marinette, your hair.”

She laughed at his wide eyed expression. She probably looked wild now, Plagg’s chop was not exactly equivalent to an hour under someone’s careful shears.

“You look so beautiful, Marinette.” Adrien’s voice sounded reverant and Marinette felt her heart pound against her chest.

She tightened her hold on his body, “I love you,” she watched him smile and felt her heart sing, “I love you, Adrien.”

“I love you too, Marinette. Thank you, I love you.”

When she buried her nose into his chest, she could feel his heart pound beneath her. A sure sign of his feelings, proof that the man in her arms was here to stay.


	7. Ladybug Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i am so so so far from the howls moving castle canon but i am a sucker for happy endings so enjoy this epilogue! thanks for reading!!!!

The Miraculous Ladybug and Chat Noir storefront opened on a modest space outlooking the Seine. They were closer to the bakery than Marinette’s old space, while also far enough from the normal hustle of the city.

Adrien bagged spells while Marinette mended and designed more specific items, like bodices that would not shift or suits that always folded in a picturesque way.

Sometimes a frantic customer would rush into the door with a shattered cup or a broken parasol and Marinette would hold it in her hands and scold it into submission. She would always return it with an extra touch, to ensure the item would stay the way that it was. She called it her Lucky Charm and her customers were thankful all the more.

Marinette climbed the steps up to the third level of the castle, past the yard where Manon and Tikki were playing. She passed the master bedroom and took the narrow staircase up to the balcony above the whole castle. Rebuilt with months of magic between Adrien’s traditional casting and Marinette’s powerful words, they created something much grander than either of them could’ve imagined.

“Adrien,” Marinette called as she pushed the trap door open, “I thought I’d find you here.”

“Miss Ladybug, so happy to see you.” Adrien smiled, the wind blowing through his flowing dusty pink button down, tucked into a neat pair of slacks that Marinette fitted to stay high on Adrien’s waist.

The man reached over and slid an arm around her waist as she climbed up, “You really like the name I chose, Chat Noir?”

At this altitude her yellow dress swayed with the wind, wrapping the two closer against the railing of the balcony. His hand stayed on the small of her back as the other reached the back of her neck, tangling with the ends of her hair that she kept short.

“I just think it suits you. I’m lucky to have found you.” His smile was wide as he looked over her face in unconcealed adoration.

“Adrien,” Marinette’s voice warned but the threat held

no weight as she reached her hand up to hold his jaw. His head dropped to nuzzle her palm, “It’s true.”

“I am too, then,” she smiled, reaching up to kiss his cheek. His face turned from her palm and he leaned down to kiss her properly. She felt him press her body closer at the small of her back. His hand eagerly holding her to him as he kissed her slowly. His lips were warm and she savored the feeling, moving with him as she brought her other hand to run up his chest. She felt him hum as she brought her palm over his neck and ran her thumb along his jawline.

“Marinette,” Adrien whispered her name like it was such a precious thing. He leaned down and pressed a line of kisses along her neck, “Marinette, I love you.”

Even now, after almost a year since she met Adrien, those words from his lips sent shivers down her spine. She still preened under his attentions, every compliment left a blush along her cheeks and the surging desire to kiss him senseless. “I love you so much, Adrien.”

Adrien just held her to him, cradling her neck with his hand and his face in the crook of her shoulder. He seemed to rock a bit as he breathed her in, “I’m so happy with you, Marinette, I’m happier than I thought was possible, I almost can’t believe it.”

Marinette brought her hands up to his back and held him just as tightly, “You make me so happy, Adrien.”

Adrien sighed against her clavicle, leaning in and letting her dress tangle between their bodies.

It was a perfect moment, under a sky so blue and the fields of the Waste stretching beneath them. The castle they built holding their bodies up so high in the air. Marinette knew this was her chance, “Adrien,” her voice broke their otherwise peaceful silence.

The man hummed, drawing careful circles with his thumb along her spine. It made her shiver but she pressed on, “Adrien, I know this isn’t traditional but I want to ask this now, will you marry me?”

It was like she struck him with lightning. In an instant, Adrien stood straight and looked at her with eyes so wide she could see every spec of green staring intently at her. “Mari,” his voice a breathy exhale, he tried again, “Marinette.”

This time, his voice was a strangled sound as his face twisted into a smile and an outpour of tears. Adrien laughed a little, trying to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand, “Marinette,” he sniffled, the other hand holding her through it all.

“Adrien,” she responded, bringing her hands up to cup his face between her palms. She wiped his tears away with her thumbs and smiled calmly, “take your time.”

Adrien sniffed and nodded a little, not enough to dislodge her grip. He let her wipe the last of the tears out of his eyes and he finally met her gaze again, “Marinette, I would love to marry you. I love you,” he leaned in closer with each word until his final declaration was said pressed against her lips. He kissed her again and she rose to meet him.

Perhaps there was a glow about them, some magical aura that gave them away instantly, but it seemed everyone in town could tell they were in love. Even some newcomers mistook them as already married.

Today they were strolling through the market, the early mist of dawn seeping through Marinette’s bones as she guided Adrien through the stalls, arm-in-arm.

“Good morning,” Marinette called as they closed in on her favorite herb vendor.

“Good morning,” the old woman nodded back, taking a cursory glance at Adrien, “and who is this handsome gentleman?”

Adrien smiled wide and pretty, falling into the routine they’ve had to adapt in the days since their engagement, “The wizard, Chat Noir. But you can call me Adrien, _madame_.”

She laughed at that, “Oh you snagged yourself a good one.”

So far they were met with polite congratulations, but the abrupt frankness of this woman’s comment made Adrien burst into laughter. “She did indeed,” his smile still wide even after he composed himself. They bought extra bundles from the woman and browsed the market the rest of the morning. By the time noon came by their basket was full of congratulatory teas, flowers, and affects like a crown around their normal groceries.

“I should bring you every week, the fish vendors in particular loved you,” Marinette laughed, watching a blush spread across Adrien’s cheeks.

“I would love that, actually.” Adrien lifted the basket under his arm, “especially with how heavy these things are.”

“Oh sorry, I forgot to do yours,” Marinette grabbed Adrien’s basket and pulled it up to her face, “You’re as light as a feather.”

Her stern voice immediately lifted the weight off the full pack and Adrien barely felt it slung back onto his arm.

“You kill me, you know that?” Adrien laughed as he spoke, “Thank you, Ladybug. You’re a good witch.”

“I know,” Marinette beamed up at him, “You’re welcome, Chat Noir.”

Marinette was nervous to see her parents. Not because of Adrien, if anything he helped alleviate some of her fears. His training in international political relations from his youth left him capable of holding even the most painfully polite conversations, all the while retaining the same level of charm needed to keep everyone comfortable. It was honestly astounding and even, at times, scary.

She wanted to do everything right by them, including her unexpected engagement. She was at least more composed than Adrien. His nerves were somehow worse than she'd ever seen them. He fiddled with his handkerchiefs, twirling the fabric between his fingers as his knee bounced in a staccato rhythm on the hardwood. Marinette had to steel herself for the sake of holding Adrien strong.

For that same reason, Marinette tried to push down the anxiety in her heart as Adrien held her on the balcony of the castle as he did that long past Bastille Day where she first met him. He gave her hand a squeeze as he asked, “Ready?”

Maybe her magic would kick in if she just lied and said “Yes, I’m ready.”

Adrien took a step forward and they were already lifting off. In those wide steps, Marinette and Adrien walked down past the cloudy skies and over towards the middle of the city. Marinette had no problems staying up, but she squeezed Adrien’s hand anyway.

“You’ll do great, I promise you.” Adrien spoke into her ear.

“Thank you, you too.” Marinette peeked up at him and enjoyed watching the slow curl of his mouth turn into a smile. She wanted to say more but they were already approaching the bakery. He dropped them down into the alley and they rounded the corner as if they didn’t just traverse through the sky.

She watched as Alya’s eyes lit up upon seeing them through the glass. Alya scrambled up from the counter and ran to open the likely locked door.

“Marinette!” Alya cried once she opened the door, “Oh my god it’s you, Chloe told me you were so old.”

Marinette almost cried as Alya squeezed the life out of her, “I know, I know. It’s ok now, I’m here, I’m good.”

“And is this your wizard friend from before?” Alya pulled back to look at Adrien. He smiled down at Marinette and she could tell he was entirely diplomatic in his posture and expression.

“This is Adrien, and yes, that’s correct.” Marinette pointed up at him.

“Oh thank god it wasn’t that wicked wizard Chat Noir, he would’ve eaten your heart whole, isn’t that right, Adrien? Surely you heard that too.” Alya didn’t seem to notice Adrien’s growing concern as he took in her words.

“Let’s not speak out here, it’s getting late. Where’s Maman?” Marinette urged them through the doors and Alya turned back to lock up the shop again.

“They’re here, let me get them, hold on.” Alya smiled, giving Marinette a pat before running to the back. 

“How are you feeling now?” Marinette looked up at Adrien, his face pale now.

He licked his lips, “I don’t know how I’ll manage that Chat Noir comment, but otherwise I’m doing surprisingly well.”

Marinette laughed at that, “You’re fine, she’s just, uh, enthusiastic.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Adrien huffed and Marinette resisted the urge to laugh at him again.

Marinette loved to be proven right. She watched as every action she described to Adrien actually unfurled before her eyes. Her parents took to him immediately, offering him food and tea and laughing with him. Alya and Marinette sat next to him and watched him flounder as they doted him with questions. He was doing well enough until they asked about his background. Marinette supplemented a vague reply and deflected the conversation.

Adrien gave Marinette’s hand a thankful squeeze under the table. She peeked up at him and gave him a wink. His face was pink with all the attention on him for so long, she wanted to kiss his cheeks and feel him burn on her lips.

“It’s getting late, Papa, we should catch the train.” Marinette squeezed his hand back, signalling for him to follow her lead.

“Before we go,” Adrien pulled away from Marinette, just as they planned at home, “I wanted to ask: Marinette,” he had already talked to her father on the side, while Marinette distracted her mother, “will you marry me?” His knee was dropped and he looked up at her as she held his hand in her lap.

Marinette could hear her mother’s gasp and Alya squeal. She smiled down at Adrien, the look of adoration on his face as he took her in. Under the warm lights of her childhood home, she nodded and leaned down into his arms.

“I love you,” she said in a sigh to his collar. His arms tightened around her, and she could cry from the sheer joy ripping through her chest.

“You can’t leave now!” Marinette heard her mom cry. She sat up and the tearful look in her parents’ face brought a sob to her own throat.

“Congratulations, this is the best day of my life,” Alya squealed, bringing Marinette into a tight hug. She even gave Adrien one too, laughing as she elbowed him, “You sly man, no wonder you seemed so shy.”

That made Adrien laugh from his gut, he smiled as they gathered back around the table, her father looking for a bottle of wine to celebrate.

Marinette held Adrien’s hand over the table now. She leaned closer into the man and rested her head on his shoulder as the conversation continued. The night stretched on and Marinette closed her eyes, taking in the warmth of the man under her and allowing herself to swim in the love in her heart for him


End file.
